


Only in a few Cycles

by Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Crushes, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Identity, Sick Character, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 11:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13833735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins/pseuds/Dildo_Swaggins_T_Baggins
Summary: After cycles of playing 'Autobot,' Shockwave finds his life is rather dull and misses what it was like to be a Decepticon. However there's a certain little agent whom seems to have a crush on Longarm Prime.





	Only in a few Cycles

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to add more to this fic, I will admit that it'll take awhile! Hope you enjoy reading it!

**Cycle 1:**

Another cycle, another endless amount of files to scrub through and meaningless recon missions to organize. Yet he kept his intake shut about the dislike about being the head of communications. It was for the best to play the role, pretending to be ‘Longarm Prime’ instead of the powerful Decepticon Shockwave. Not that the job was difficult, in fact, everything was a breeze, even what Autobots call ‘boot camp’. He had to admit he missed the action, the sick thrill of battle, or even the feeling of hurry. Part of him wanted to change into his true form and attack Ultra Magnus’ cabinet, easily defeat the enemy within. But those weren’t his orders.

Longarm walked passed the rows and rows of tiny offices, no one even shuttered an optic. Foolish Autobots. Well, there was almost no one, he heard the stop of typing as he passed a certain office. Nothing out of the schedule, he knew small blue optics were watching him as always. Ever since his first day as Prime he felt those optics, at first he thought it was curiosity, then it became something else. Clearly a little crush. He expected Blurr to quickly find someone else, or maybe another mission would push Longarm out of his processor.

He took this as a mental note that Primus had a sick sense of humor. Blurr was a constant in this equation, always pausing to just get a short glimpse of Longarm.

Longarm paused waving at Cliffjumper who nodded and said his greetings before the Prime slipped into his private office. The door slid shut and Longarm finally vented loudly. “Just another day...another day and no orders.” His fake intake frowned. It has been 50 stellar cycles since Megatron simply vanished. His home was almost in ruins from what intel he got from the Autobots, it seemed like a small civil war had broken out. He knew that was fake if anything Starscream and Strika were having a very physical debate.

He saw a new temporary datapad, and a few other storage devices, more files. Once again sitting down and skimming the information of each, filing and filling out forms. Occasionally taking a short break to ponder, or to enjoy a cube. The cycle passed with ease. Getting to his peds to face the window seeing once again that it was dark, staying far too late. His shoulders sagged exiting his office to an almost empty room. Finding some small drones cleaning and strangely one office light on.

He noted this, not part of the normal schedule. Peering into the small office to see none other than Blurr, who was typing away. “Agent Blurr?”

The small Autobot jumped out of his seat, resetting his optics before relaxing and clutching a servo over his spark. “Longarm Prime you scared me, sir.” He stood straight saluting him. “My apologies.”

A weak Autobot salute. “At ease, everyone had left Blurr there’s no need to stay.”

“Longarm Prime I still have files to fill out.”

He shook his helm. “I ask that you don’t make this a habit, I need my top field agent in perfect health.”

“Oh y-y-yes sir, I understand sir.”

He took another mental note that Blurr had never stuttered in front of him, in fact, the whole conversation was slow. Blurr was known to talking fast, and he knew with other mechs he has a slower pace, but with Longarm, it seemed that his vocalizer was on a higher setting. This was the first time he didn’t have to mentally replay and slow down what the blue speedster said. “Very well, goodnight Blurr.”

Blurr cleared his intake. “Goodnight Longarm Prime sir.”

“There’s no need to use ‘sir’ around me.” He smiled warmly, slipping out but not fast enough to see Blurr’s faceplates heat up. Something told him he just made the situation worse.

 

**Cycle 2:**

He was starting to grow numb to this lifestyle, sure the first few solar cycles weren’t too bad, at least he did something. But this was tiring. Passing the small offices and wanting to throw half of them out of the building, crushing the group of Autobots who were always by the energon dispenser. He stopped before he could reach is own office.

This wasn’t on the schedule.

He didn’t feel the little blue optics staring at his back plates. Turning slowly to Blurr’s office, the light was still on, and from what he could see Blurr was still typing away. Shaking his helm before waving to Cliffjumper and stepping into his office.

Reading report after report, his processor years away, thinking back to his lab. It would be a lie if he said he didn’t miss his lab. The endless hours of research, progress, his experiments. Rarely would he test on a live subject, and even rarer that the subject was unwilling. His last research effort was on repairing a processor. How to get answers without asking a question.

Longarm tore himself away from his old life, checking if he had any meetings for the day. Pleased that there was none. Feeling his plates shift into his true form, his blunt thick fingers switching out for long sharp claws. His height doubling and one optic replacing two. Enjoying the stretch from being ‘Longarm’, if only Autobots could make a comfortable chair that wasn't the size of a sparkling.

His claws were dull, and his antennas weren’t picking up as many sounds as they use to. His optics narrowed, relaxing in the small chair before kicking it away and sitting on the floor. Reading through datapads.

Then it ended.

Changing back into Longarm, making his leave from the office.

Only to frown at the one office light. Stepping fully at this time to see Blurr was still there, his movement slow and what looked like an almost empty cube of engeron. “Agent Blurr.”

He jumped, yet his movements were slower. “Longarm Prime, sir.” He got to his peds, not at his normal snappy speed.

Longarm showed little reaction. “Agent Blurr I believe that this was not supposed to become a habit.”

He shook his little helm. “No, sir. I only have one servo full of reports to fini-”

“They can wait in the morning.” He cut off the excuse, Longarm should’ve known that Blurr was willing to do anything to get his attention.

“But sir.”

“Agent Blurr I want you to return back to your hub and recharge.” He folded his arms. “Don’t make me make that an order.”

Blurr shrank down. “Y-yes sir…”

Longarm nodded turning and leaving. “Don’t let me see you here this late again.” He snapped, exhaustion taking over.

 

**Cycle 5:**

It was another cycle, for the past 3 night cycles Blurr wasn’t there, his office was locked up and the light was off. It seemed the little glitch was over with. However, he still didn’t feel the small optics watching him. To him, it seemed everything was fine, well until it wasn’t.

It was middle of the day, another report was skimmed over and filed away, tired of the same four walls he felt the need to stretch his legs. Leaving his office to the surprise of Cliffjumper who had questions but Longarm dismissed them with a servo. Enjoying the simple walk around the office, peeking into some offices while other bots rushed around. Some mechs almost fried themselves seeing he was up an about, thinking he was observing their work. Passing the group at the energon dispenser who dropped their cubes running off to actually do work.

Longarm stopped looking out one of the massive windows, seeing the city scurry, grabbing himself a cube. Only to crush it when there were a loud thump and a scream.

Twisting around to see a femme frozen in shock staring down at what looked like an exhausted mech. He didn’t react, seeing many mechs fall in battle, dismembered, decapitated, their plating grey and sparks fading away. Watching a group from around the mech, most Autobots had never seen even a dent, over polished sparklings. He groaned imagining it wasn’t anything. “Move.” He snapped pushing through. Finally seeing who collapsed.

Blurr, of all the mechs in the office, fell, his optics offlined and his plating dull. This wasn’t good, if it was just normal exhaustion then all he would do is wait for Blurr to wake up and send him to his hub. But the foul smell of rust wafted out of the blue mech.

One of the mechs reached forward, daring to stir Blurr.

“Don’t touch him!” Longarm snapped, louder than needed, the group backed away. “It’s rust,” He noticed that they didn’t know what to do, everyone stood in this state of confusion. He growled. “Cliffjumper, we need a medical team, I need two of you to lock up and guard his office. No one touches him, the rest of you get back to work.” And like that they started to bustle, three mechs locked up Blurr’s office standing outside of it. Cliffjumper contacted a medical team, while Longarm sat next to Blurr keeping an eye on the small mech. He only dared to shift the blue mech's helm, seeing small brown orange flakes around his intake.

The team arrived quickly, Longarm asked Cliffjumper to join Blurr to the medical ward while he was left to investigate Blurr’s quarters. Stopping to watch they carry Blurr out of the floor. Longarm excused the mechs guarding Blurr’s office, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. Instantly locking it and dimming the windows, his false optics were useless if he was supposed to find what could cause a rust infection.

Switching back to his real form, making sure that his antennas didn't scrape the ceiling. He started to search Blurr’s office. Checking his drawers, his desk, the closet, and finally opening up his personal terminal. Using his higher up passcodes to unlock it with ease, surprised to see that Blurr had been on the terminal for over 5 cycles. “He didn’t recharge.” Disappointed in his top agent. Finding nothing of use on his files, switching off the screen, his optics landing on an almost empty cube.

It wasn’t the normal pink, in fact, it was neon green. “Interesting.” He plucked the cube off the desk. Swirling the plastic around and watching the liquid. Seeing it separate slowly, he knew this ‘energon’.

When they were pushed off of Cybertron and forced to find a new home, they also needed a new source of energon. Many exploration teams were sent to find a suitable substitute, one team came back with dull green liquid, using it on themselves and having positive results. Having more energy and little to no need for a recharge. That was until one of them fell into a seizure, lashing out at anyone close enough, having his spark snuffed. The autopsy showed that the substitute had rusted out most of their systems, rusting away from the inside. The rest of his team were sent to the medical ward and Shockwave studied the liquid, finding that if not kept cold it would turn into a neon green sludge, and would rust away metal easily. Luckily he found a way to combat the sludge.

The Autobots had no idea what they were dealing with, or how to even think of a stop the spread. His long claws tapped on the desk. “Slag it.” His limbs retracted, once again putting on his false face, taking a small sample of the sludge and stashing it away in his subspace. Stepping out of the office. “I want a team to investigate what could’ve caused this.” He told the closest mech who nodded and dashed away.

He pushed down the sickly feeling in his spark, making his way to his own office.

 

**Cycle 7:**

He asked Cliffjumper to take over for the cycle, simply telling him to file what reports he got. Only to be called if there was a meeting. Instead of walking into the same boring office, he found himself waiting in the hall of a medical wing. Watching mechs chat and hop to one room to another. The only complaint he had was how bright everything seemed. For once glad that his false optics weren't as sensitive as his real optic.

He had to admit Autobots did have great improvements in the medical field. Remembering what it was like to rush by and try to weld wounds in a crowded room with mechs howling in pain. Their most inner energon leaking out as their frames started to grey, servos clutching on only to let go. That he didn’t miss.

“Longarm Prime.” A femme stood in front of him, saluting. “I believe you’re here for agent Blurr?”

He stood. “Yes, and you?”

“Red alert.” She nodded leading him down another hallway, reading his report and skillfully dodging other mechs in the hall without looking up. “At first we thought it was lack of recharge, but we ran diagnostics and found that it’s much worse. He’s got a level 3 rust infection in his intake and tanks, and it’s spreading fast.” She stopped by a room. “We’ve never seen anything like this, we’re trying to find some kind of cure or something to stop it. Right now he’s nothing but painkillers.”

Longarm peered into the room seeing Blurr with dull plating and resting on a berth far too big for him. He frowned. “I can see...his spark is weak isn’t it?”

She nodded. “We’re trying to do everything we can, but…”

“Tell me, can he expect visitors?”

“Yes, I think that will do him some good. I’m sure he knows what’s happening to him.” She unlocked the door stepping aside to let him in. Pointing to a little com by the door. “Contact the front desk if you need anything.” She left.

Longarm watched her go, well aware of the small blue optics staring at him. He turned slowly, smiling softly, trying to brighten up his best agent. “How are you feeling?”

Blurr shuttered his optics, looking away. “I can’t feel anything, but I want to run.”

“I’m going to guess they have clamps on your legs.” He sat down, folding his servos into each other.

“I wish, they’ve temporally offlined my legs.” Blurr fiddled with the thick blanket overlapping him. “Why are you here, don’t you have a meeting and important forms to approve?”

“I do, but seeing that my best agent is ill, is a good excuse to slip out of the office for one cycle.” He smiled, hoping the joke would lighten up the mood.

“That’s a bad excuse.”

“Anything to get away from Sentinel Prime is worth it.”

Blurr snorted. “Now I know the rumors are true.”

He shook his helm. “You have no idea.” Smiling as the small mech seemed to relax some.

Blurr reached forward, switching off the holo-screen, and sipping medical grade engeron. “Why are you really here?”

He vented, his shoulders falling a little. “I wanted to check up on you, and ask you a few questions.”

Blurr set the cube down. “Ask away.”

“Why did you not recharge when asked?”

“I had too many forms, too many reports to fill out. I didn’t want to get behind again and figured if I can’t take them to my hub then I’ll stay later. I didn’t mean to stay the whole night. It just happened.”

“When was the last time you went to your hub?” He leaned back, finding that there was little tension in the air. Blurr wasn’t stuttering, in fact, he was relaxed.

“I haven’t been there for at least 8 cycles, I haven’t had a full recharge for that long either.” He slumped back in the berth.

“I see, I have two more questions. Where did you get that strange engeron?”

Blurr flinched. “I uh, a friend suggest it to me, said it kept him up for cycles. Told me where some were stashed, I left a few credits and took what I wanted...I didn’t think much of it.”

He nodded. “Blur-”

“Am I dying?” The smaller cut him off, finally facing him, his optics wide and hopeful.

Longarm smiled shaking his helm. “No, you’re in the best servos possible, as far as I know, you’ll just be berth ridden for a while. You’ll be back on your peds soon enough.”

Blurr relaxed falling back into the berth. “What was your last question?”

“Oh yes, what’s your favorite sweet, be in mind that I can’t smuggle in high grade or make it.”

Blurr reset his optics a few times. “You’re going to make me candy?”

He shrugged. “I have the rest of the cycle off, figured why not?”

“Oh, umm, I guess caramelized silver mid grade engeron?”

He nodded. “Alright, now this is an order, you’re going to eat every last one of them.” He stood tall. “Get some rest Blurr.” Shyly waving at the blue mech before stepping out.

 

He stopped by a store, picking out a small chemistry set before returning to his hub. Once again stretching into his true self, opening up what he had, and finding some old notes of his. Pulling out the sample, beginning his tests.

There was a certain bit of joy as he worked, finally returning to his element, watching as tubes bubbled. A small part of him asked why he was doing all of this for a pathetic Autobot, another part of him was almost giddy seeing the liquids change color. Reading over his old notes and finding that the old ‘cure’ only halted the effects of rust. But with the combination of medical grade engeron would get Blurr back on his peds faster.

One final test before making the last batch for Blurr, he poured the cure into a small dish, finding it annoying that everything was so small. Pleased to see the neon green dissolve and become nothing but harmless waste.

From there it was simple mathematics for how much Blurr would need due to his size and normal intake. Making a full patch of the cure adding a sweetener that didn’t affect it, pouring each one into a protective edible shell. Easily making at least 25 small cubes of midgrade and dropping the shell in, watching them caramelize. And adding a thin layer of silver to each one and stuffing them away into the refrigerator.

More than pleased with his work, and to see the sunset, he relaxed in his own hub, reading over his old notes.

 

**Cycle 36:**

He asked for Blurr to join him in his office, concerned of the agent’s work ethic after the incident. Blurr had only returned two cycles ago, asked to spend little time in the office and to check in at the medical ward at least twice a cycle. The doctors were shocked that his systems started to recover, and even more so at the speedy recovery. Each cycle Longarm would stop by and drop off a candy, spend some time before returning to his own hub. He enjoyed the company of Blurr, and Blurr seemed to enjoy it too, being that his faceplates were always burning.

Blurr stepped into his office, saluting. “Longarm Prime, sir.”

Longarm smiled. “Sit down, no need for formalities.” He gestured to a chair, Blurr zipped over, crossing his legs, one of his peds bouncing up and down. “Tell me how are you feeling?”

“Much better sir, thank you so much for the candies. I didn’t think you could cook, no offense, but it just doesn't seem to be something you do. The doctors say that they didn’t expect me to recover so fast an-”

“Blurr.” He sat up. “I’m glad to hear that.” The small mech blushed. “But I must inform you that in a few cycles there’s a mission I would like you to go on.”

“Oh.” Blurr sunk down.

“I’m pleased with your progress.” He smiled. “That will be all.”

Blurr rose to his peds once again, his shoulders slumping.

Longarm frowned, watching his top agent leave. Visiting Blurr for a few moments before work was refreshing. It didn’t solve the ‘Blurr clearly having a crush on him’ issue, but he used that to gift Blurr the cure. It didn’t help that Blurr out all the Autobots under his control was actually showing determination. Something that these ‘Modern Cybertronians’ lacked, and something highly valued to the Decepticons. Blurr would’ve made a great Decepticon, unlike the war-frames or flight-frames, Blurr was small and light and excellent at his job.

He valued Blurr, much more than any of the other Autobots outside.

That’s what made plans with Megatron (who somehow was still alive, and contacted him when Blurr was recovering) to invade their old home, stung. It didn’t hurt being that the whole Autobot ‘race’ would be conquered, but it stung that Blurr would be sparkbroken.

And that stung.

“Sir?” Cliffjumper comed him.

Longarm suppressed a vent, in fact shutting them all. “Yes?”

“Mind if I come in?” The door slid open, and the young mech’s head poked in.

Longarm waved him in, picking up another datapad, reviewing Blurr’s mission once more. “What’s this unexpected visit about agent Cliffjumper?” He leaned back, getting somewhat comfortable in the small chair.

The door slid shut behind the red mech, he shuffled in place, fiddling with his digits, clearly nervous. “It’s about Blurr sir.”

Longarm set the datapad down. “What do you mean?”

“Well sir there’s been talk, and rumors about you two...Mechs are saying that Blurr had been overworking to get your attention.”

Longarm raised an optic ridge, looking skeptical at his second in command.

“These are just rumours, but...it’s no rumor about how he sticks his helm out when you pass. Or that you visited him when he was recovering.”

He vented. “What’s the point of all this?”

Cliffjumper threw up his arms. “I’m just saying that it’s no secret that Blurr likes you, likes you a lot. And I understand if you don’t like him in that way, but you can’t just play with him like that.”

“What do you mean?” He tapped his digits on his desk, normally he would’ve tossed someone out for speaking that way, and out of the window. But he was pretending to be Longarm, if anything he would’ve asked Cliffjumper to leave. Yet he found himself in an intersection, crossed between his mission or this little pet crush he’d grown.

“You...You get his hopes all up and then crush him. Sorry, sir I know I’m speaking way out of line. But just pick one, if you like him, then like him, if you don’t then that’s it.” He shrugged, looking smaller as Longarm didn’t move from his spot.

He cleared his intake. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, I will sort it out agent Cliffjumper.” He excused his SIC, locking the door with a code from his desk, unwinding from his Longarm form. His one optics trailing up to the ceiling, the steady groan of the small chair. “Slag it all.”

 

The cycle ended just like any other, being the last in the office, and taking his time as he closed up. Grabbing a few datapads and tossing them into his subspace, they had vital information that Megatron could use.

He stopped almost halfway to the elevator, turning his helm to a closed door with light creeping out from under it. His spark sank, he hoped to spend the time Blurr was on that organic planet, Earth, to figure out how to handle this situation. He felt the sparks in his tanks knocking on Blurr’s door, hearing a faint groan and a scramble to the door.

“Hello Longarm Prime, sir.” He didn’t need to look up knowing who it was, his voice dragged through the sentence.

“May I come in?”

Blurr slid to the side, his shoulder hanging as he slumped down into his chair, tossing his servos onto his terminal.

Longarm felt the sad pull of his spark, his vents hissing. Without a second thought, he threw his arm out, lightly grabbing both of Blurr’s servos. His other servo saved Blurr’s progress and shut the Terminal down. “This is an order, and not from me but from a doctor.” He released Blurr’s servos, the much smaller mech reset his optics a few times before staring at him in confusion. “But it’s still an order Blurr.” He vented, the sound filling the room. “So I’m going to have to be rather blunt about this.” His arms snapped around scooping up Blurr and holding him against his spark chamber. Blurr didn’t struggle, still in shock as Longarm flicked the lights off and shut the door.

It wasn’t until he stepped into the elevator that Blurr looked up at him, his faceplates burning white. He opened his intake once, shutting it sharply and hiding his helm in his servos. “Is it that obvious?”

“I’m afraid so, is it affecting your work?” He didn’t meet Blurr with his fake optics, instead of watching the little Autobot squirm with his single true optic. Longarm cleared his intake, knowing well that his own faceplates were heating up. “As well as mine.”

“Oh, well I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to affect my work progress so much, I’m sure that everyone has noticed how I behave around you and after collapsing I’m sure that the office gossips abou-” He stopped, his intake still open, staring at nothing but slowly looking up. “E-excuse me, but what did you do say sir?”

He didn’t hide the little smile or the light chuckle that rumbled through his frame. “You’ve been affecting my work, for well quite a while, but then again I don’t expect anything less from my top agent.”

Blurr’s vocalizer let out a long high pitch squeal, shutting his intake and looking at nothing.

“I hope you don’t mind that I take you to your personal hub.” He couldn’t stop smiling, rubbing small circles on Blurr’s upper arm.

Blurr slowly shook his helm, nuzzling his faceplates into Longarm’s side, flustered and trying (and failing) to hide his embarrassment. “N-no that would be nice.” His weak and muffled answer only made Longarm’s faceplates burn.

Being the head of Communications Longarm knew where all of his agents lived, even access codes, but that information didn’t come without a price. If he were to get caught, and his systems went into hysterics all of that would be deleted, more than all of that, his whole processor would fry. It would if he didn’t easily figure out a way to bypass all that coding.

Finding Blurr’s hub was easy, balancing the small mech on one arm and entering the code. Blurr was in a daze, staring up at him without resetting or shuttering his optics. Truly Longarm found it flattering.

He stepped into Blurr’s hub, finding it rather dusty, but well kept. Holo screen, sofa, a nice rug that he was sure had Vos like patterns. The kitchen was simple, there was a massive window looking over the city, and a hallway that led to what he assumed was the berthroom.

He set Blurr down, finally triggering the Autobot to react, Blurr swayed a little, back and forth. Longarm rested a servo on his shoulder, Blurr’s whole frame shook. “Oh sorry, would you like some engeron?”

Longarm smiled, picking up that Blurr wasn’t saying ‘sir’ or ‘Prime’. “I would love some.”

Blurr brightened, blurring into a bright blue ribbon. “Make yourself comfortable.” He called, dashing around and grabbing cubes. Longarm sat down on the sofa, resting his servos on his knees, watching Blurr. “Ummm...Will you be spending the night?”

He felt his spark burn. “If you’ll have me.”

Blurr didn’t run, instead walk, carrying two call cubes and handing one to him. Sitting down next to Longarm, his faceplates burning, and his optics bright. “I realized we don’t have much to really talk about.”

He shook his helm. “I’m not one to indulge in the energon dispenser gossip, but I do have audio receptors. I’m sure there’s been quite some talk about us.” He chuckled. “I’m sure that there are bets being placed.”

Blurr laughed, loosening up a little. “We work at communications, and only a handful of agents step out on the field. They gotta do something besides paperwork.” He looked down at his cube. “How do you stay in that office all cycle, reading reports, organizing missions, and putting everything in order?”

Longarm found himself agreeing, he missed his lab, the city streets of New Kaon, the thrill of battle, he missed being a Decepticon. “I’m not sure.” He admitted, longing for almost any thrill.

Blurr yawned, all of his vents opened slowly, warm air spilling out as he rested his helm on Longarm’s shoulder. “I worry about you.”

He pulled Blurr closer, opening up his own vents, seeing Blurr’s optics dull with the need of recharge. “I’ll be fine, it’s you who needs to rest.” He gently pushed Blurr’s cube towards him. “Besides you know you have a mission.” Blurr pouted but drank the whole cube, Longarm rubbed his back, his other arm stretched out and grabbing the remote for the holo-screen.

It wasn’t long that Blurr fell into recharge on his lap, and his own processor started to beg for recharge. He settled down, pulling Blurr on top of him, playing with his lone antenna while his thoughts blurred. “Slag it Shockwave.”

 

**Cycle: Unknown (lost track)**

He followed Blurr around his hub. “You’ll keep out of sight right?” Blurr was departing later this cycle.

Blurr’s tiny helm poked out of his berthroom. “Yes, yes. Longarm you know this isn’t my first mission right?”

He stopped, playing with his large and bulky servos. “I know but…”

Blurr walked out of his berthroom. “I’ll be fine Longarm, besides it’s some unprocessed engeron planet with a handful of Autobots who are more than likely insane to think Megatron of all mechs is there. There hasn’t been a ‘Con sighting in solar cycles.”

Oh if Blurr knew the truth, that in fact, Megatron was there, and that he wasn’t alone. That the mech Longarm was nothing more than a lie. “What about your spark? Should I ask for one last check-up?”

Blurr laughed. “Longarm!”

He vented loudly. “What?”

“You know you’re cute when you’re worried.”

“Tell that to Sentinel, maybe you could stop being such a spike all the time.” He rolled his optics.

“Longarm, when did you start using such language?” Blurr finally stepped out, more than likely packing his subspace.

He folded his arms, it always seemed rather strange to him how the most feared Decepticons could turn into nothing more than a turbo fox kit. And then he met Blurr. He understood now, almost falling into the small arms every night. How comforting it was to hear the other ramble for cycles, always trying to impress him, Blurr wanted him.

Blurr had him.

Had him for a while.

“Just...Be safe.” He held Blurr’s shoulders in his servos.

Blurr shook his helm, looking up, pulling that cute little smile. “Okay, I will, and don’t overwork yourself.”

“Okay.” He smiled back. “Oh! You forgot something.”

“What?”

He pressed his fake lip plates to Blurr’s, it was small, but it was a first. Being that for a few cycles they spend nights together, often with Blurr in recharge on top of him.

Blurr pulled back, flustered. “Dang it Longarm!” he teased. “Now I gotta come back and surprise you with something better.”

He grinned. “You’re going to be late.”

“Oh frag!” He tried to wrap his arms around Longarm’s torso, failed. “Bye love you!” And he was gone.

Longarm stared at the main door, more than flustered, he was sure his spark was melting through its casing. “I have to make arrangements.”

 

“Lord Megatron?” He rolled his helm, feeling the hydraulics finally loosen after being in one form for so long. His struts were finally relaxing being stretched.

Megatron reset his optics, reading a report that Shockwave sent. “There’s an Elite Guard agent arriving in a few cycles?” He didn’t look at Shockwave, skimming once again over the report then setting it aside.

“Correct my lord, agent Blurr, he’s the fastest mech alive, he’s the top agent.” His massive claws scrapped together, fear ran up his spine.

Megatron leaned back, tapping his digits, turning toward the screen. “But this wasn’t needed, a call just to send some information?”

He shifted in the small seat, his tanks rolling at what his lord might just say. “I wish to ask you something.” He felt small, Megatron was on an entirely different planet, but he still felt as if he was right next to the warlord.

Megatron looked disinterested, waving a servo.

“I want to ask you that you don’t harm agent Blurr.” He spat it out, panic overriding any logical thinking, only to be cut short as he dug his claws into his own forearm.

That caused his lord to stop, pinning him light cycles away with his optics. He shuttered them with nothing more than slits. Showing no emotions, there was a reason why armies got weak knees when Megatron was on the front lines. He could rip out a mech’s spark and not even flinch as their body turned grey, he was ruthless. “Explain.”

“You see my lord, is that over the past few cycles agent Blurr has been acting rather strange towards me. A harmless little crush, and at first I tried to push it away, but then he got sick with that fool’s green energon and the doctors didn’t know how to save him. I remade the cure and secretly healed him. It was then that I started spending more time with him an-”

Megatron held up his servo, looking down at nothing and back up. “At least you’re better at keeping it a secret then Blitzwing.”

“Excuse me, my lord?” He was sure he felt his tanks give way under him.

Megatron shook his helm. “You’re little Autobot will be kept out of harm's way, I can’t promise him to not be dented, but I can promise his spark’s survival.”

He had to reset his optic. “I don’t understand, my lord.”

Megatron smiled. “Blurr will be safe, besides he’s not the first Autobot I’ve promised to not lay a servo on. Seems that Blitzwing has taken to one of the repair bots here. Agent Blurr will be safe.”

“T-thank you Lord Megatron.” He felt like the world wasn’t real, how would Megatron allow this to happen. The Megatron, let one of his top soldiers fall for a measly Autobot, and it sounds like Shockwave wasn’t alone.

“We must cut this short, I believe everything is ready?”

“Yes my lord.” The plan was in motion, Blurr was going to survive, and Cybertron was theirs. He just had to break the news to Blurr that Longarm wasn’t even real, that Blurr was madly in love with Shockwave.

 


End file.
